


Beth's Move

by wisechase



Category: The Queen's Gambit (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dorks in Love, F/M, Post-Canon, maybe i'm projecting because i love benny shh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:54:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27679037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisechase/pseuds/wisechase
Summary: Beth beat Borgov but it’s time for her next match. He already made the first move, an unexpected and pricey phone call to her hotel room in Moscow. Now it's her turn. No more phone calls. She’s determined. And frightened. But she has to apologize and thank Benny Watts in person. It can’t be more difficult than playing Borgov, right?But the stakes feel higher somehow, and Beth isn't so sure.
Relationships: Beth Harmon/Benny Watts
Comments: 76
Kudos: 429





	1. Moscow to NYC

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I wrote this rather quickly and wanted to get it up so forgive me if the tenses feel a touch off in places. Hopefully the timeline isn’t confusing, I've started the story at a cafe and backtrack a bit to give context before going forward with the piece. I wanted to explore everything Beth was feeling on her walk to Benny’s and explain how/why she’s in NYC. 
> 
> TW: swearing, same mention of drugs as in the show

Beth’s head tilted back as she finished her second cappuccino of the morning. She set down the ceramic cup and closed her eyes for a moment before pulling out a small compact to check her lips. Still perfectly cherry red. But she dabbed on a little more anyway to delay the inevitable, the reason she’d come. To New York. To the cafe on his street. To ask for forgiveness in his grimy, underground apartment. The cappuccinos were only a procrastination tactic, just like the night at the hotel. 

She’d landed at JFK late last night and had gotten a hotel room in the city. She told herself it was just a place to put her bags so she wouldn’t look so presumptuous standing at his door looking like she expected to spend the night. But by the time she settled into her hotel room, the anxiety of actually seeing him had set in. She didn't think she could face him at night. He might be all sleepy and dazed and sweet. No stupid hat to cover that hair she liked so much. His hair might even be ruffled from tossing on his pillow in such a way where she wouldn't be able to concentrate and she might just accidentally run her fingers through it and… 

And if he pushed her aside? 

No. She wouldn’t let her nerves get the best of her. She rose from her seat at the cafe and for a second she tried to imagine where the nearest pharmacy was.  _ No _ , she shook her head at the intrusive thought and tried to clear her mind. She’d gotten through the most difficult game of her life without the pills. Not just gotten  _ through _ , she’d fucking  _ WON _ . But did she have more wins ahead of her? In the matches that mattered? A long distance phone call and some advice wasn’t forgiveness. Losing to Borgov would have depressed her, but another rejection from Benny would break her in a new way.

Waiting until morning had given her time to think, perhaps too much time. She’d gone over so many different combinations and endgames that she’d made herself sick. She always was her own worst enemy. But maybe the stomachache was just the jetlag. 

Her layover in London was only supposed to be a few days of relaxing sightseeing and interviews. Though who could relax with that obnoxious bodyguard trailing dumbly behind. But she couldn’t be too annoyed when Townes was near. He’d helped her push off the White House for a few weeks and he’d even rearranged his departure to be on her flight. That’s where he finally filled her in on all of Benny’s schemes. The way he’d rallied the boys and paid for the tickets into the city. He had to give the Christians a ridiculous quote for some quick cash, but he booked them all on nonstop flights. He’d purchased two extra radios and packs upon packs of batteries so he couldn’t miss a beat. Beth had just smiled hearing this, imagining Benny translating the Russian announcer with wild eyes. 

Benny had even reached out to Townes. He knew he’d be the most likely to get an express visa with his press pass. Townes had laughed recounting that he practically had to yell into the phone to interrupt Benny’s monologue to say that he was already going. But the way Townes described the fierceness and then relief in Benny’s voice made Beth’s stomach flip. 

So instead of magazine shoots and old abbeys, Beth had scrambled to the customer service desk upon touchdown to change her Kentucky ticket to New York. Townes had bought her a coke and hugged her goodbye as she boarded the flight no less than an hour after arriving in the city she wouldn’t see. 

But back in the cafe her nerves were taking over now, if she waited much longer they’d consume her entirely. So she pushed open the door and created a quick pace for herself so she couldn’t chicken out. Every step toward the messy apartment filled her with dread and guilt. Even after everything Townes had told her, she still knew he had every right to be mad at her. Facing Benny wasn't just a challenge of the mind, but one of the heart. A genre she was far less familiar with. Her stomach churned at the thought. He had told her not to call anymore, and she hadn’t.  _ He _ called  _ her _ . That had to mean something, right? Benny had dialed that (extremely expensive) call, he made the first move, he claimed white. 

So, she was black then. White moved first and now it was black’s turn. Her turn. And she had to do it before her time ran out. It would be easier to resign or draw, but those words weren’t in Beth Harmon’s vocabulary. 

She walked more briskly and adjusted her furry beige hat. It  _ had _ been freezing in Russia, and perhaps she splurged a bit after her win. And how could she leave the hat’s matching coat with the fuzzy fur collar all alone? She smoothed her hand over the collar now and tried to allow herself a moment of peace thinking about her clothes. She still liked her luxuries, especially the clothes. Something Benny couldn’t judge her for. Afterall, he was always clad in that ridiculous hat, that overly dramatic coat, and she still couldn’t exactly say why he carries that knife. His theatrical presentation used to intimidate her, but it’s the thought of his eyes now (the grudge they could be holding, the disdain, or worse: indifference) that fills her with fear now. Regardless, a shiny Russian blade in a pretty case sat in her pocket. A gift? A token of gratitude? An apology? She couldn’t say. 

Beth walked a few paces past his door before she realized she missed it. As she backtracked she realized why: his car wasn’t there. A bad sign. But perhaps he’d leant it out to one of the boys, or maybe it even got towed. She made a mental note to get her lawyer on the case of his numerous tickets. It was the least she could do after staying on his floor for a month, on that ridiculously thin blow up mattress. Well, some nights on the blow up mattress… 

But she wouldn’t think of that right now. It was too tantalizing, too hopeful, and she needed to prepare for the worst. Maybe a new car then, rather than just paying the tickets? Or an apartment with windows that didn't just peer at the soles of dirty shoes as they scurried across the city? High windows with a view of treetops and streets far below, that’d be real nice. But she knew she couldn’t buy her way out of this one. Maybe the knife was a bad idea after all.

Beth took a deep breath as she descended the stairs and didn’t let it out until she entered the dark hallway. It was smaller and more suffocating than she remembered, but maybe she was just breathless. She knocked on the door before she had time to stop breathing completely, before she lost what little courage she had. 

Just as the sound of her rapping knuckles finished echoing through the hall, the rusty knob began to turn. The door opened in a flash and a pair of eyes she wasn’t expecting turned into saucers before her, and an identical pair joined them soon after. 

“Beth!?!” Matt practically yelled in shock. 

“BETH!!” Now they were both on her. Whooping, holding her, clapping her on the back, cheering, singing. Mike and Matt. They’d been there at her first match and they’re congratulating her now. It felt full circle, it felt right.

They ushered her into the apartment with words of triumph and more of whoops of joy.

“Look here, Beth!” There must have been at least thirty chess boards covering every flat surface of the place. Some on the tables, most on the floor, a couple were actually in the open cabinets. 

“We have the game set up on every board. We were all playing along the whole time, trying to come up with tactics for you! Now we just keep replaying it over and over. Every move, Beth. Every move was perfect.”

“It’s unbelievable! Unfuckingbelievable. Well, actually it’s totally believable. It’s Beth Harmon. Shit! You were so amazing, Beth.”

Beth smiled wide, eyes slightly damp. “Thank you, boys. But you both know I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Mike rolled his eyes with a laugh, “Fuck the modestly we all know you could have done it without any help.”

“We only told you what you already knew.” Matt chimed in. 

“Maybe,” said Beth “maybe. Sure, I thought maybe I could win, of course. But hearing all your voices, the excitement, the sureness in them. That’s when I  _ knew _ I could.” Mike and Matt looked touched at that, and in that moment of quiet Beth remembered why she was here. She scanned the small room quickly and felt confusion wash over. No one else was here. She was sure he’d be just there leaning on his bedroom door frame. Maybe wearing a smirk, maybe a sneer. But there, nonetheless.

The twins caught her distraction and smirked at one another. 

“You and Benny think too much alike, you know.”

Beth should have guessed Matt’s meaning then, but her nerves and that euphoric greeting had dazed her. She felt dizzy and lovely, it was almost better than the pills. She shook head, not understanding, not wanting to guess right now. 

“What do you mean? Where is he?”

Matt was laughing now, and through a few snickers Mike said “You think  _ exactly _ the same. He didn’t want to apologize over the phone either.” 

Beth stared at the pair without blinking. The shock on her face delighted them even more. 

“No..” Beth breathed. The guys were in hysterics now. “No. Benny’s in Kentucky?” She slumped herself on a kitchen chair and covered her face with her hands, disrupting a few pawns with her elbows.

“Fucking  _ Kentucky _ . SHIT” She spit out. But Beth couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto her cherry lips. He wanted to see her. He was still playing. She’d miscalculated but the game was still on.

She reached for the landline and dialed her own number. 


	2. The Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benny's POV during the Russian Invitational

**Earlier; Just before the Russian Invitational**

Benny was sprawled out on his floor. Staring at the ceiling, idling flipping his knife around his fingers. Right hand, left hand, back again. 

He knew what he had to do, who he had to call, and he wasn’t looking forward to it. He had the number jotted down on some napkin he found inhabiting one of his many empty cabinets. The kitchen hadn’t always been this barren, maybe he lived like a bachelor but he didn't use to eat like one. Cooking was very meditative for him, picking a recipe was like picking a strategy. He’d combine recipes, substitute ingredients, just mess around. He liked a challenge. Vegan, Thai, deep fried, biscuits and gravy. He had fun with it. 

She didn’t even know how to hold a knife when she got here. Well he had to fix that. Watching her struggle like that was just insulting to his southern roots. She was one of those microwave dinner types. Made sense. Most of the chess roadies were. But she wasn’t like most. If she was going to stay in his living room (...or whatever room) then she was going to earn her keep. 

They would have a board on the floor with a game going while he chopped and she measured. Taking turns going over to check it and make moves. She’d tripped on it once, he had to throw his whisk down to catch her. Flour everywhere and she couldn’t stop laughing, he was laughing too. And maybe he kept his eyes on her for too long when she shook the flour out of her hair like some kind of pampered poodle. But he couldn’t help it, he was mesmerized. She had just raised an eyebrow at him playfully and dipped her hand into the bowl to flick some flour on him too. Benny had only rolled his eyes then and tried (unsuccessfully) to concentrate on preparing the meal. When he pointed out that the game wasn’t finished she had simply waved her hand and proceeded to tell him ten different variations of how she was going to win. And she was right. Of course. So he just laughed again and watched her reset the board. 

Cooking for one never used to faze him. But that was before she came. It was too quiet now. Recently he’d made a habit of relying on the bodega a block down if he remembered to eat. He picked up the napkin. It read _Babushka's Bodega_ in big red letters, and under it were some digits in his messy scrawl. She used to tease him for that. 

_“How did your editor read these hieroglyphics? You got a ghostwriter, Watts?”_ He had shoved her shoulder then. _“No, on second thought the writing in that book is far too pretentious to be anyone but you.”_ A devilish smile spread across her lips. 

He shook his head to clear it and brought the napkin up to face to examine it again. _DL Townes_ , it read. Benny groaned inwardly. He almost longed for the tortured call he made to the Christians earlier that morning instead.

_“Yes, I love God. Or Christ or something or— just print whatever you want okay? Good.”_

Not that he was going to read the article anyway. 

_“Ya, ya, go ahead I really don’t care. No, there’s no need to send it over for approval, I’m fine with whatever. Just hardwire the money into my account within the hour, okay?”_

There had been scrambling on the other side of the phone then.

_“Yes, all of it or no article. You hear? Okay good. I’ll be calling my bank to confirm. Goodbye, ma’am.”_

It was amazing how a few empty words could lead to so many zeros when you knew the right people. Was it ethical? Ahhh who’s to say. Was it moral? Well, anything to help Beth Harmon was moral in Benny’s book. 

Then it’d been the airlines that consumed him for the rest of the morning. Calls and ticket confirmations and boarding passes. Three tickets, all one way into JFK, they should be taking off around now. Mike, Matt, and Harry. Thank God. Or thank the Christians, really. He was just happy to not be alone anymore. Sure he had Hilton and Arthur. But they didn’t know Beth like these guys did. They were out right now doing a few chores for him; Benny’d given them a check to purchase two new radios and as many batteries the store would sell. Over his dead body would he be missing a single second of these matches. 

But Benny had a chore of his own. To make sure that Beth truly had the best shot at that title. He picked up the phone that laid beside him and dialed the numbers on the napkin quickly before he could stop himself. 

Three rings. Four. _Maybe he won’t pick up_. 

“You’ve got Townes. For Chess Review and The Lexington Herald-Leader” His voice was polite and refined, like all reporters, but right now it filled Benny with disgust.

“Townes. It’s Benny Watts.”

“Benny, how are you?”

_How are you?_ Did this chump even know what was at stake here? Beth _fucking_ Harmon was at stake. 

“Listen here, Townes, you're the one with the press licence, you're our best shot at the moment. Beth is in that sub-zero, Soviet city all by herself—”

“Benny, it’s funny you mention it because actually—”

“No, this is important, really. You could get over there, make the magazine pay, convince them, do whatever you have to do—”

“If you’d just listen for a moment—”

Benny was so heated now he sat up from his place on the floor, his spare hand waving wildly. “I’m serious, Townes. You think those bodyguards know what the hell they’re doing? Because I’ll tell you with first hand experience that they don’t. She needs—”

“BENNY. LISTEN TO ME.” Townes yelled, exasperated. Benny stopped talking then so Townes took his chance to get a word in. “My visa is already through and my ticket is already booked. I’m leaving for Moscow tonight, I won’t be there in time for her first match, but I’ll be there if she gets to Borgov.”

Benny signed with relief. “Oh.”

“Yes, I worked it all out with the paper a few days ago. I’ll be there soon. No need to worry.”

“Huh. Well. Good.” Benny felt a bit stupid now. 

“I’m surprised you’re not there with her, to be honest.”

Now he felt really stupid. “Are you? Well, I’ve been working things out over here for her just fine. Got some friends flying up to listen to the matches with; old friends of Beth’s. Had to sell an idiotic quote to the Christians to get them up here. But it’s all worth it. The money also bought me a couple more radios and enough batteries to last me until the 80’s. In case there’s an adjournment. In case she needs us.”

“You’re something, Watts. Really something.” Townes was chuckling a bit. 

And that pissed Benny off. “One other thing. I know about your little _thing_.” He really spit that word out. Like it made him sick, like it was poison on his tongue.

“My _thing_ ?” Townes sounded nervous. _Good_ , Benny thought. 

“Yes, your _thing_. That little fling with Beth. There was something going on between you, or maybe there still is. Either way, this is the biggest game of her fucking life. Of any of ours lives. She needs a friend not a distraction. She IS going to be the world champion. And if you mess with her in any way. If you even look at her funny—”

“Benny—”

“I’ll end you. I swear.”

“Oh, Benny…” _Did he sound relieved?_

“What.” He retorted flatly.

“Beth’s family to me. A sister. I’ve known her for so long. I love her, sure. But not like that.”

“Right.” 

“Aren’t you going to ask me what ‘like that’ means?” Benny could tell the reporter was smiling when he said it, and it only annoyed him more. “Come on. Indulge me, Watts.”

Benny snorted. “Fine. Like what. _Townes_?”

There was a short pause on the line before Townes said, more gently this time, “I don’t love her like that. Like you do.”

_Shit_. Benny went silent.

“Why else would you be calling right now? Or selling your soul to the Christians like that? Or threatening to _kill_ me—”

“Listen, I’ve got to go. Look out for her, okay?” Benny didn’t wait for a reply. _Click._ He crumbled up the damned napkin and threw it across the room. 

_Shit_ , he thought again. He laid back down and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. Hard. 

_SHIT. SHIT. SHIT._

Miles away in his office Townes was chuckling, listening to the dial tone.

~

Benny must have dozed off because he was still on the floor when the knocking started. Pounding, really. Incessant fucking pounding. 

“BEEEEEN-NYYYY!”

“Come on, Benny, let us in you asshole!”

“BENNY BOY! WE’RE HERE!”

Were those twins always this irritating? Jesus. But any trace of annoyance dissipated from Benny’s face the moment he saw them. They were all nerdy smiles, worn out jeans, and chess sets under each bulky arm. 

“This isn’t all. We’ve got more sets in the suitcases.” Mike said excitedly.

Benny was smiling at them now. “Zdravstvuyte, my friends. Welcome to my underground world of chess.”

“Hey we don’t speak Russian, man— Woah it really does look like a goddamn prison in here, huh?” Matt said, looking around the dimly lit apartment. 

Mike was throwing his cases down and heading toward the fridge. “Got any food? Those tickets you bought us were cheap as hell, not even _one_ in flight snack.” 

“You should be grateful I got them at all. And don’t bother, there’s nothing in there. I’ll call for pizza in a bit.” Benny said trailing after him, shutting the empty fridge.

“Well don’t get all dressed up for us, Benny boy.” Matt said in a mocking tone, swatting at Benny’s robe. Benny shoved him off. 

“C’mon Matt, the kimono really brings out his eyes”. Mike snickered. 

“Shut up. We have work to do, assholes. Come on, get over here, look at this for me. I think I’m onto something…”

And so it went on. The amount of chess boards in the room tripled. They played out both of Beth’s matches against Borgov dozens of times. Then they moved on to Borgov’s latest matches to look for any weaknesses. They got through five before Harry finally showed. 

“Sorry I’m late. Flight was delayed.” Not even a hello. He grabbed a slice of pizza and they all got right back to work. 

They followed each game. Radios set up throughout the room. Benny had his old one on the Russian channel, and two new ones in English. The Russians reported the moves about thirty seconds faster. Benny insisted on trying to translate. But he was never as good at the language as Beth. So all three were in English by the time the reporters started sharing her moves. And there were hands flying everywhere. On every available chess set. Pencils and papers and notes scattered about.

They took a short break after she beat Luchenko. Went down to the bar for a drink. They hadn’t been hydrating much so they got drunk fast. There may have been some singing and dancing, none of it very good. But they dragged themselves back to the apartment and managed to wake up not terribly hungover.

Then she was facing Borgov. And he called for an adjournment after 40 moves. A fucking adjournment! Benny couldn’t believe their luck. They were on it instantly. Had been before it had even been called. But now they kicked into hyperdrive. Even _The Times_ printed it but they’d been on it for hours at that point. 

It was early for them (not that they’d slept) but it was getting late in Russia. They had to call now. 

And all of a sudden he was hearing her voice. For the first time in months. His name on her lips. It was almost too much. He had to pass the phone off to Harry. He had to keep on his A game. For her. No nonsense. 

Then she won. She fucking won. Benny thought he was going to burst. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face. That ear to ear bullshit kind you only see in movies. He felt goofy or high or both. 

“Beth Harmon. You’re my goddamn hero.” He breathed, still smiling like a madman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I chose not to detail the matches too much because the show already does such an excellent job with it there’s no need for me to mess it up! And I know precisely nothing about chess so 😅
> 
> Also, I didn’t write into it because I don’t know anything about their characters but Arthur and Hilton are definitely boyfriends, right? Ya, I thought so too. And I don’t know why I made Benny some kind of masterchef junior. It’s not ooc if you squint. Well, it amuses me. Anyway, thanks for reading!


	3. NYC to Lexington

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They guys celebrate Beth’s victory with a little too much spirit. 
> 
> Benny and Harry take a ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for mentions of death. 
> 
> Also, (and I should have said this last time too) thank you so much for all the nice comments! The support seriously means so much to me!! I wasn’t expecting it and I was so wonderfully overwhelmed! Thank you, my loves 🧡

Benny can’t even remember the last time he was this hungover. The pounding in his head was like a jackhammer. His mouth was sandpaper. Opening his eyes didn’t even feel like an option. If he did then the sun, that was surely leaking in through the small windows in the back of the apartment, would cause his head to explode. So he kept his eyes shut tight and tried to roll over to shove his face into the pillow.

_ Tried _ being the key word, because as soon as he moved half his body was on the cold cement floor.

There must have been some rustling because a voice spoke then. “Oh good, you’re awake. Take a look at this.”  _ Harry.  _

Benny heard shuffling before something light landed on his back. He didn’t make a move for the object, just let out a painful groan.

“What the  _ fuck _ happened to me, Beltik.” Benny called out in a horse voice, coughing at the end. “And get me a goddamn water.” 

“What? You don’t remember? Not even the Gibsons? Starting with those was a bad idea, man.”

Right. It had started with a round of Gibsons at a bar in Greenwich Village. The six guys went out to celebrate Beth’s monumental win. And a Gibson was Beth’s favorite. They had to toast to her with her favorite drink. 

It sounded harmless enough at first. But considering the drink was nearly  _ entirely _ gin (six parts to be exact), and considering that it was more like two rounds of Gibsons ( _ she beat Borgov, FUCKING  _ **_BORGOV_ ** ) then the chaos of the rest of the night started to make more sense. And perhaps Harry had mentioned that a Gibson had been Beth’s late mother’s favorite as well. So maybe it was closer to three rounds. The drink felt like a way to pay homage to the two ladies. Well, it felt that way last night. Now it just felt like shit. 

After the (first) bar, the guys had stopped at the liquor store for a bottle of champagne. 

Each. 

Yeah. Six bottles of champagne. Benny, Harry, Mike, Matt, Arthur, and Hilton all running around wild with their bubbly. Maybe that was a bit excessive. But Beth had just beaten four Russians.  _ FOUR _ . 

So the party walked to Washington Square Park to pop their bottles by the chess boards there. It wasn’t a violation of the open container law if they didn’t get caught, right? Exactly. And by some miracle they didn’t. 

“Wait. Where did we go after the park?”

“Which park?” Harry said as he handed Benny a glass of water.

“We did  _ not _ go to multiple parks. There’s  _ no _ way.”

“Are you kidding? We went to Columbia.”

“COLUMBIA?” This felt like a sick joke. Benny took a moment to think as he sat up and pounded the water Harry handed him. “How the hell did we get all the way up to Morningside Heights? That’s on the other side of the fucking world.”

“The professor drove us. Who we met at Washington Square. He recognized you and wanted a game. And then he was bending over backwards for us when he found out we knew Beth.” 

“Right. I remember him. Shit.”

Benny set his empty glass down and put his face in his hands. “Hey can I have some aspirin to go with this water? And more water.” When Harry just stared at him, pathetic and pale and sprawled on the floor, Benny said “Please.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine. So you, me, and the twins went up there with him. Arthur and Hilton headed home.” Harry brought more water and the aspirin over.

“Lucky bastards.” Benny popped the pills and chugged the new water. “Thanks, man.”

“Then we were at his office. The professor. That’s where his board was. He was pouring us bourbon and just gushing about Beth’s game. He read about it in the paper. Kept calling her Elizabeth though, and you kept correcting him.” Harry chuckled. “The twins were running down the halls. They’re the most energetic drunks I’ve ever met. Couldn’t keep track of them. And you were annihilating the professor at speed chess. It was brutal.”

“That sounds familiar. Don’t remember the speed chess though. Huh.” Benny said and fell back into the partly deflated air mattress. “Ouch.”

“Well you beat him every time. Completely inebriated. It was honestly impressive. Then we walked across Central Park. Where Matt wouldn’t stop chasing the ducks, it was ridiculous. And you three were singing that new Beatles song at the top of your lungs. I was trying to calm you all and find a way out of that damn park.”

“Sorry.” Benny muttered. 

“Then we took a long train ride back here, had a final Pabst at your local dive down the street, and the bodega for snacks, then home sweet home. I fell asleep to three drunks snoring on that pile of pillows on the floor you call a couch. Granted I was drunk as well but not like you.”

“And why, praytell, am I on my own goddamn floor as well.”

“Don’t blame  _ me _ . You insisted on sleeping on that thing, man. I tried to put you in your bed but you kept jumping out and yelling about this shitty blow up mattress.” 

Benny definitely didn’t remember that. It seems that even when he’s wasted he couldn’t get his mind off her. He looked down then at the object Harry had thrown at him when he woke up, a newspaper. Not just any newspaper,  _ The New York Times _ . And smiling up at him from the front page was none other than Beth Harmon herself.

He held her gaze. Just stared at her in a way he felt too self conscious to do in real life. A smile this big from her was such a treat. Like when she found a mistake in that Fine match. Even her eyes were twinkling. She was so gorgeous he felt sick with it.

“Harry.” Benny grumbled.

“What now?”

“I think I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying. You’re dehydrated and—”

“Over my dead body are you dying, Benny Watts!” Screamed a voice with equal amounts of raspiness and conviction.  _ Was it coming from his own room? _

“That doesn’t even make sense—” Benny shot back with another grumble.

“You are not dying before you tell Beth Harmon you love her!” Matt. Or Mike. He couldn’t tell. And why the hell were they sleeping in his bed? And… what did he just say?

“Huh?” Was all Benny could muster. 

Mike walked out then. He was pale and had bags under his eyes. He made it to the doorway before he got a queasy look on his face and decided to lean against it rather than continue into the main room. After a few labored breaths he spoke. “That’s all you could talk about last night. Unrequited love and shit. You said you were going to drive down to Kentucky and tell her. No more shitty phone calls. You said that she was the only person you’ve ever really loved.”

“Oh. Actually I’d prefer death then. Bye.” Benny shoved his face back into his pillow then. 

“No, man. You  _ have _ to go to Kentucky. This is like the most noble cause! Fairytale shit!” Mike said with a huge grin on his face.

“I’m not going to buttfuck Kentucky or wherever she lives.” Benny groaned into his pillow. “I ditched her and she went to Moscow without a second. All alone. Because I wouldn’t go with her. I'm an idiot. She doesn’t want to see me.”

“But you told everyone at Walter’s Bar you were driving down!” Matt said excitedly as he ran out into the room, breathless. “You can’t let them down!”

Benny looked up at him. “I did what.”

“You got  _ on _ the bar and started yelling it. It was so rad. People were cheering for you, man! Mad applause. Everyone wanted you to go! Even the bartender! She did kick us out after that stunt, though. Understandable. And ban you. But she was really nice about it!”

“I got  _ banned _ ?”

“For life, yeah. But she wished you good luck! And I got her number.” Matt and Mike high fived then. 

Benny was way too hungover for this. He turned over on the air mattress and closed his eyes.  _ Would Beth even listen to an apology? And would she forgive him after that? Did she even care about him at all?  _

When he’d told her that he missed her all those months ago he’d been left with silence over the wire. But he missed her now more than ever. And the way she said his name over the phone the last time… it was enough to make him dizzy. 

Now he was thinking about it…like actually considering it. Driving to Kentucky. _Was this actually a good idea or was there still alcohol in his system?_

“Beltik.” Benny said, sitting up slightly to see Harry sitting at his kitchen table. “What do you think.”

Harry sipped his tea and considered the idea for a moment. “Sometimes alcohol makes you do dumb shit. Like chase ducks or stand on bars. But sometimes it brings out the truth. And the way you talked about Beth… that was honest.”

“Well there’s no well in hell I’m doing this shit over the phone.”

“No, definitely not.” Harry agreed.

“If I’m doing it, I’m doing it right.” Benny looked over with a smirk. “Want a ride home, Beltik?”

~

The car had been coasting down 81 for a while before Benny finally asked.

“So. You go over Beth’s a lot? Since you know where the spare key is and all.” He cranked his window down a little so the smoke from his newly lit cigarette could drift out of it.

“Uh. Not anymore, no. She cut me off right after Paris.”

“But before?” He was trying to be casual but this was coming off more like an interrogation. And it was making Harry nervous.

“Yeah. It was, uh, after the tournament in Mexico City and before the US Championship. I moved back here to start school. I gave her a call, offered my condolences for the Borgov match, offered to help her train. She said yes.”

“Right. I knew you were coaching her.” He just didn’t know this coaching happened in Beth’s home.  _ Interesting _ .

“Her mother died in Mexico, you know. Alma. Beth just wanted,  _ needed _ , company. I helped her train but I also helped her bury her mother.”

“Wait her mom died in Mexico City? Like at the tournament?” Benny was shocked.

“Ya, she found her body right after she lost to Borgov.”

“What the fuck.” Benny knew that Beth’s mother had recently passed but the rest of this was all new. Beth had always shied away from the topic and he’d respected it. But now he wished he knew how much she was hurting, this was a new level of fucked up.

“Then she was back in Lexington all by herself.”

“You’re serious? There wasn’t anybody else there? Any of her mother’s family? What about Alma’s husband? Or—”

“No one. She had no one. Beth and Alma were all each other had. Beth went to Mexico with Alma and came back all alone. It was heartbreaking.”

“Shit.” Benny took a long draw of his cigarette and stared at the taillights in front of them. 

“I couldn’t leave her. Not like that. The state she was in— I mean it wasn’t obvious on the surface, she’s good at hiding things like that. But I could tell she was hurting… and afraid. I was worried about her. Especially when I found her pills. And I won’t lie, taking care of her was a welcomed distraction for me.”

“What kind of pills?”

“Some kind of tranquilizer. A downer. And she had hoards of them. It was like a pharmacy in there.” 

Benny didn’t say anything. He felt like a total asshole. He should have driven down here months ago. She could have died.  _ Shit _ . 

Harry continued. “She asked me to stay with her. So I moved in for a bit. In her spare bedroom. Beth and I were there for eachother when we each needed someone. We were both lonely. I don’t think I was her first choice as a roommate but it just fell into place. She needed someone to stay with her and I wasn’t ready to face reality yet. And somewhere in there we started something like… a relationship.”

“Elaborate, Beltik. I’m waiting.”

“I wouldn’t even really call it that. It wasn’t love or anything close. Deep down it was pretty selfish. We each wanted to make ourselves feel wanted. Emotionally and…” Harry looked away then, out the window. 

“You slept together?” It wasn’t meant to sound accusatory. It was shock in his voice, really.  _ Was Harry Beth’s type? _

“Ya…” Harry trailed off slowly, beginning to pick at his fingernails. “A handful of times. It was never… uh.. romantic or well…” He took a deep breath then, obviously flustered. “It was pretty awkward most of the time. Always awkward after. We didn’t even sleep in the same bed.”

Benny was glad Harry still had his gaze fixed out the window because he didn’t  _ mean _ to let the sides of lips curve up like that. Smiling at a guy’s awkward and clearly unsatisfactory sex life… that would come off as too much of a douchebag thing to do, even for Benny. This was clearly a time of crisis for the two, he should emphasize with them. Still, Benny couldn’t help but think of Beth’s soft moans and the breathless way she said,

_ “So that’s what it’s supposed to feel like.”  _

Ya, Benny was losing the fight to keep the smile off his face now. He tried to hide his face with his arm by messing with his hair. But he knew if Harry looked over he’d be caught grinning, looking cocky as hell. He wasn’t trying to be an asshole, but his ego had just been inflated like the Grinch’s heart. And the former prodigy wasn’t fucking modest to begin with.

But Harry continued talking, unaware. Eyes still out the passenger window. “We were using each other. Maybe the sex happened just to push those feelings away, a charade of sorts. To try to convince ourselves we had something and that we didn’t have to stop playing house to go back to reality. I liked her more than she ever liked me. Or maybe just the idea of her.”

Benny nodded, listening intently now.

“I  _ really _ liked her but it became clear I’d never be able to keep up with her. She’s too quick. And she never looked at me the same way when we realized that. It felt shitty for a little bit. And I kind of feel foolish now because I’m obviously not her type.”

“Hey. You’re a good guy, Harry. Seriously.” And then, because he couldn’t help himself, he asked. “What’s her type then?”

Harry looked over and grinned. “Washed up chess pirates?” 

Benny laughed and shook his head. Then he took out the pack of cigarettes and threw them at Harry, along with his lighter. All while trying to keep his eyes on the road. 

Harry took out a cigarette and lit it as he continued to speak. “But the way you talk about her—”

“No we don’t have to go there. Just hand me a smoke.”

“Come off it, stop complaining. I know I'm about to get mushy just shut up and let it happen.” Harry raised his voice to speak over Benny’s grumbles. “The way you talk about her and your face lights up,  _ damn _ . It makes me sick but it also makes me happy for you. I want that someday. To be so crazy for someone I make everyone around me sick with it.”

“I can pull over if you need to throw up.”

“Listen.  _ That _ wasn’t me and Beth. Not even close. But I love Beth and I want that for her. She's been through hell. Worse than hell. And it seems that she’s risen from the ashes. So be a fucking a knight in shining armor or I’ll be over there, man. You’d probably beat me in a fight faster than you check me in chess but that’s not going to stop me.”

Benny laughed at the sheer conviction in his friend’s voice and said, “I believe you.” Then took a long drag before he continued. “Thanks, Beltik.” Another drag. “Thank you for telling me. You're a good friend. To me and more importantly to Beth. I’m really glad you were there for her. That you could be there for eachother.”

Harry nodded at him and they sank back into comfortable silence. Then Benny reached over and cranked up the radio and they drove and drove. 

~

“You sure she’ll be okay with this?” Benny cocked a brow at his friend as they pulled up to the blue house. “This sounded like a good idea way back in New York. But now it feels… invasive.”

“It’s  _ Beth _ , Benny.” Harry said. As if the obvious somehow solved everything.

“That’s exactly why I’m freaking out. It’s fucking  _ Beth _ . She’s going to chew me out. She’s going to eat me alive.”

“Maybe if it were anyone else but… I think you underestimate how much she likes  _ you _ .”

“Fuck off, man. Seriously. I’m starting to feel real sick about this. I need another pack of smokes.”

“You said you only smoke when you drive.”

“I’m starting a new habit. Where’s the nearest drugstore?”

“No more cigarettes. Stop freaking out, it's not going to help.”

Benny let his head fall back on the headrest and didn’t respond.

“Okay, Okay. See that funny rock under the picture window? That’s what the key is in. Just unscrew it.”

“And then what? Trespass?”

“Sleep in the pink room. Pick up some groceries tomorrow, maybe I’ll be working. Then wait. She should be in London by now and then she’ll be here in a few days. Chill out.”

_ Chill out? Was Beltik out of his fucking mind? _

But Benny took a breath and tried to listen to Harry, to believe him. He trusted Harry but these things were easier said than done.

Regardless, he dropped his friend off on Circle Road, went back to Beth’s (without a stop at the drugstore), and threw himself on the couch. 

And waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! i tried to add a touch of humor within the serious car ride just to break it up a bit. I hope benny didn’t come off as too insincere and shallow. 
> 
> also how do we feel about harry being the mom friend lol it just felt right i can’t explain it.
> 
> the phone call is up next, then they’ll meet up I promise! and that’ll be the fifth and final chapter here 😝 (unless the meeting is two chapters idk it’s going to take me bit tbh)


	4. Phone Call No. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth, currently in New York, calls Benny, currently in her house.
> 
> AKA the phone call that Beth makes at the end of chapter one

The first time Beth called Benny had been from Paris. His palms itched when he picked the phone. He’d already heard the rumors; that she’d shown up drunk to her big match against Borgov. He wanted to be mad at her. For wasting her talent and his time. But she sounded hollow, broken, and lifeless on the line. It scared him. He pleaded with her. It was a knee jerk reaction.  _ Please just come back to New York, we can talk it out. _

But she didn’t.

The second time she called to ask about the Christian Crusaders. Benny said  _ take the money!  _ And smiled for the first time in days. He could go with her to Russia with this money. He could be there for her, her second. Maybe she wasn’t coming back to New York and maybe he was met with silence when he revealed quietly  _ I miss you _ , but he knew chess. And he wouldn’t mess up Russia.

The third phone call ended with Benny telling her not to call again. He didn’t think she’d really listen to him, it’s not like she ever had before. He would have picked up… if she called. Of course he would have. 

But she didn’t call. And he felt like shit about it.

The fourth phone call cost him an arm and a leg, but just hearing her voice—

_ hearing her voice say HIS name _

—was enough. More than enough. He would have given both arms and both legs and his favorite board for that. But this wasn’t the time for apologies and confessions. It was time for king rook pawns and queen files and strategies and getting the fucker in the endgame. No, this wasn’t time to unload what he was feeling on her. She had to keep her head clear. He told her that he was proud of her and to go beat him. 

And she did. She  _ fucking _ won. 

But the fifth phone call, well,  _ this _ is the call that was never meant to happen. They were supposed to talk face to face. So much had gone unsaid in the first four calls. No one wanted that to happen again. No more wires. Just Beth to Benny. Player to player.

Well they each thought that, and now the distance between them verged on obscene. Thousands of miles where there were supposed to be feet,  _ inches _ . So there was Beth in that dark, underground New York City apartment. And there was Benny in the middle of who knows where Kentucky. Not face to face at all. 

Hence the necessity of phone call number five.

Beth’s landline rang for almost a whole minute before Benny picked up. Lounging around Beth’s living room was one thing, answering her calls in her absence felt like crossing a line.  _ What terms were they even on _ , he thought. But the goddamn thing wouldn’t shut up. So he stomped over. 

“Uhh Harmon… residence.” He said slowly, almost like a question. He wasn’t used to answering  _ house _ phones, afterall.

“There should be some coke in the fridge. And a couple packs of Chesterfields by my bed. It’s not much but I wasn’t exactly prepared for a guest.”

“Well I’ll be damned.” Benny let out a long whistle. “Beth Harmon herself.”

He could tell her lips were curved up by the way she said “Benny.” Softly, like a wish that had come true. 

Neither of them spoke for a beat. Just listened to the other’s breathing. Smiling like fools.

“Congratulations, Beth. Best in the fucking world. Well, you’ve been the best for a while. But now the rest of the world knows too.”

“Thank you, Benny. Really not just for—“

“Hang on. Where the hell are you, Harmon?” He was at the disadvantage here. She knew that he’d come to surprise her.  _ How _ ? And now she was surprising  _ him _ . This plan was all tangled up and Benny began to twist the phone’s cord around his finger while he waited for an answer.  _ Was she going to ask him to leave?  _

She sighed with a hint of a chuckle. “It’s a ridiculous turn of events, really. A cruel, ironic twist.”

“Don’t tell me you’re in some kind of Soviet prison. You’re gonna be late for your very important match against Mr. President.”

“Ha ha. No, I’m not in prison. Though this place does resemble one.”

“What? The hotels they put their champion up in are that bad? I’m glad I lost then.”

She laughed then. A genuine laugh from Beth Harmon. Transported through the telephone wire just for him. Benny felt his chest ache at the sound. 

“The place I stayed was amazing.” She waited for Benny to say something but when he stayed silent she continued. “Really breathtaking. All of Moscow was. You’ve seen it. But my favorite part was the chess on the streets. All the old men playing. Tables on every corner. And they’re always packed, morning to night. They live and breathe chess over there.”

“That was my favorite part too.” He said in a soft voice, “Their love for the game is so…”

And when he couldn’t find the words, Beth finished for him. “Admirable. But also like an obsession. So, relatable.” They both laughed then. 

“Exactly,” said Benny “exactly.” And then something caught his eye. Under a jacket hung over a kitchen chair. Dark and silky. “Is that my robe?” He blurted out, as if the chess champion had no concentration at all. 

“Oh no. You weren’t supposed to see that.” She said quietly, nervously. “It is. Sorry.”

“I was wondering how I lost that…” He said with a chuckle, trying to put her at ease.  _ It was just a robe. _

“I’ve always kind of had sticky fingers… I’m sorry.”

“You  _ stole _ it?” He was laughing now. It shocked him. It was absurd. Hilarious. “I never knew how much you admired my style, Harmon. I would have given it to you. Or a nicer one. That one is so old.”

She went quiet again. When she spoke it was barely above a whisper. “I was too embarrassed to ask.” And then, impossibly softer, she said “I wanted it in Paris. It smelled like you.”

Benny’s insides twisted up. He was in physical pain. This is what Harry had been talking about. The kind of four letter word that makes you sick, (even in his private mind he didn’t dare use the ‘L word’). His throat was closing. He opened his mouth to speak but not even breath could come out. He closed his eyes and leaned his back against the kitchen wall, sliding down until he was sitting on the floor. 

After a choked cough he tried again. “Beth.” he said. “Beth, I need to see you. Where are you? I thought you were supposed to be in London by now.”

“Oh no, I’m back in the grand old US of A. The Big Apple to be exact.” Maybe he was winded by that comment but Beth was giggling again. 

“In a place that looks like a prison?” He was bewildered. 

“Yes.” She spoke in a drawn out, knowing tone. Like when she saw her check 10 moves ahead.

Another beat of silence.  _ Click _ . 

“No fucking way.”

“Took you long enough.”

“You didn’t.”

“I’m afraid I did.”

“Well  _ shit _ , Beth.” He was laughing now. And she joined him. What else were they supposed to do? 

“It’s what I should have done last time. After Paris. Benny, I’m so—”

“No, no, no. Don’t start. I came here to apologize to  _ you _ , Harmon.”

“You’d think with the whole ‘chess prodigy’ thing one of us would have seen this coming. But here we are. Or aren’t, I suppose.”

“So what’s our next move?” Benny asked through another chuckle.

“I’m not keen on spending much more time in this cellar. Just looking at that damned air mattress makes my neck hurt. And there’s more to do in Kentucky than you’d think.”

“There’s nothing I want to do more than see you, Harmon. When does the next flight land? I’ll be there.”

“Benny… you just drove across the country. I can take a cab—“

“There’s no way in hell you’re taking a cab, Harmon.”

“Fine, fine.” There was some shuffling on her end then. He could hear her speaking to someone. “Mike and Matt just ran out and got the paper for me.” She was giggling, breathless and giddy. “They’re so sweet. Okay, okay, here are the flights from JFK tonight.” He could tell she was smiling, and he was too. 

There was a flight to Lexington that night. 

Beth Harmon would be on it. 

And Benny Watts would be outside the terminal waiting for her.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is so short! i promise the last one will be much longer 🥰


End file.
